


I've Got a Question

by organabanana



Series: Femslash February 2020 [1]
Category: Imagine Me & You (2005)
Genre: F/F, Femslash February 2020, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-22 15:02:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22717900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/organabanana/pseuds/organabanana
Summary: Luce and Rachel take H to the Science Museum for a night of space-themed fun. She has many questions, and not all of them have easy answers. Fluff, fluff, and more fluff.
Relationships: Luce/Rachel (Imagine Me & You)
Series: Femslash February 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1633720
Comments: 7
Kudos: 94





	I've Got a Question

**Author's Note:**

> A fluffy little one-shot written for the Femslash February 2020 challenge. Day 1: Rainbow.

“I’ve got a question.”

Luce glanced away from the brochure in her hand to look at H. “Well, if there is a place where you’re almost guaranteed to get answers, this is probably it,” she said, motioning around them at the fact-filled walls of the Science Museum, “so shoot.”

“Why are there only seven colours in a rainbow?”

“There aren’t really only seven colours in a rainbow, those are just the ones we can see with our eyes.”

Luce knew she’d opened herself up to at least five or six further questions with the way she’d worded her answer, and she couldn’t help but smile when H latched onto the best one of all.

“What else can we see colours with?”

“Nothing, of course, that was poorly worded,” Luce grinned, “I meant with our _human_ eyes. Different species see different colours.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, you know dogs, I think I read somewhere they see the world in a sort of sepia tone, like an old photograph,” she explained as H’s eyes widened in awe, “and there’s this shrimp that can see millions of colours we can’t even imagine.”

“Extra colours!?”

“Right, so who knows what the rainbow looks to one of those shrimp?”

“What kinds of colours?”

Luce let out a quiet chuckle, “I wouldn’t know, H. How do you explain a colour you’ve never seen to someone who’s never seen it? How do you explain the colour pink to someone who’s never seen pink?”

H closed her eyes, clearly deep in thought as she tried to come up with the words. And Luce was so busy watching her try to crack the mystery that she didn’t even realize someone else had joined their little group until she felt Rachel’s hand on the small of her back.

“A kiss,” Rachel said, her voice making H open her eyes and grin at her sister’s arrival, “pink is like a kiss.”

“A kiss,” Luce echoed, one eyebrow arching in teasing doubt. Rachel had a tendency to offer up far from scientific answers to H’s questions but delivering with so much confidence it was hard to dismiss them outright. 

“Yes, a kiss.” And as if to prove her point, Rachel pressed one to Luce’s cheek, soft and sending a little shiver down her spine thanks to the chill from outside still lingering on Rachel’s lips. “Pink, isn’t it?”

“Let’s see?” H tugged on her sister’s sleeve and offered her own cheek, “Is it really pink?”

Rachel didn’t make her wait. Crouching down, she planted a loud kiss on H’s cheek, making her giggle and nod.

“All right, all right,” she said, already walking towards another exhibit, “that’s pink.”

As soon as H left them to their own devices, Luce reached for her girlfriend’s hand, letting her fingers effortlessly slot in the spaces between Rachel’s. They’d recently hit that sweet spot in their relationship where the honeymoon stage wasn’t quite over yet but the constant excitement and newness was starting to give way to familiarity and warmth instead. 

And warmth was exactly what she felt when Rachel kissed her again, on the lips this time, soft and lingering. As much as Luce had enjoyed the last few weeks with their daily (and sometimes even more frequent) impromptu snogging sessions in the back of her shop, there was something to be said for this. For kissing like there was no rush or need to go any further, because there’d be plenty of time for that in the future. Kissing like they had all the time in the world.

“Pink?” Luce asked as soon as her girlfriend’s lips left her own. She was teasing, of course. Poking fun at Rachel’s theories was one of her favourite things in the world. 

“Hmm…” Rachel licked her lips as they walked, following in on H’s footsteps, “reddish, maybe. A reddish pink.”

“A reddish pink. That’s what we’re going with?”

“Yes,” Rachel nodded once, clearly very sure of her assessment, “like those flowers - what were they called? The ones I liked at the shop the other day.”

“Darling, you’re going to have to narrow that down a bit for me.”

“Oh, you know the ones I mean. You said they were normally purple, but you liked them better in red.”

“Oh! Salvia?”

“Salvia! _Thank you_ , it would’ve bothered me all night.”

“And we can’t have that on Astronight, of all nights.”

Rachel smiled, giving Luce’s hand a squeeze. There was a silent _thank you_ in that squeeze, Rachel knew. For suggesting the Science Museum sleepover, for being patient while H worked through her feelings about her sister’s divorce and new relationship. For caring about H and their relationship in the first place. But Luce didn’t particularly want to talk about that. 

“I’m surprised you went with salvia and not a poppy or a rose when you went looking for a red flower to name,” she said, hoping that would be enough to steer the conversation away from any potentially still-sore spots.

“Well, I needed a particular shade of red,” Rachel said, as if knowing exactly which shade of red a kiss felt like was the most natural thing in the world.

“Ah, yes. A reddish pink, was it?”

“Precisely. Precisely _that_ shade ofreddish pink.”

*******

“I’ve got a question.”

H walked over, half-eaten sandwich in hand. The children had collectively decided to all eat together, leaving the boring adults to entertain themselves. But clearly, sometimes the need to have a question answered won over and you simply had to stop talking to your new friends to go find someone who could help.

“Can moonlight make a rainbow?”

Luce opened her mouth to answer… and then closed it again. Could moonlight make a rainbow? She had no idea. And a glance at Rachel told her her girlfriend wasn’t much more knowledgeable on this subject than Luce.

“I… assume so. Moonlight is just reflected sunlight after all, isn’t it?”

“That makes sense,” H nodded, though not too confidently. “And would it look the same as a regular rainbow?”

That made Luce pause once again. Goodness, why did nobody ever talk about nighttime rainbows?

“Well, if it’s the same light…”

“It’s not, though,” Rachel interrupted, and when two sets of eyes landed on her she decided to elaborate, “the same light, I mean. Moonlight and sunlight.”

And as if on cue, the lights around them dimmed and a starry sky appeared projected on the ceiling above. Luce was sure there’d be follow-up questions on nighttime rainbows later, but right now H was far too enthralled with the show to ask anything else. 

“Go on,” Luce said, nodding in the direction of the children swarming around the museum workers who’d just made their grand entrance to begin the “astro” portion of Astronight, “you don’t want to miss the explanation.”

H ran towards the crowd, immediately joining in with questions and comments that Luce was sure would not be easy to field even for the experts. And just like that, they were alone again. Or alone in their own little bubble, at any rate, with other adults scattered around them as the children enjoyed themselves. But they’d never needed to be completely alone to feel like the only people in the room.

“There’s no way a night rainbow looks the same as a day rainbow.”

Luce turned her head to look at her girlfriend’s face. Rachel was clearly still deep in thought about the matter, a slight frown between her eyebrows as she tried to figure out the mystery of moonlight rainbows.

“Do you want me to bring a nice scientist over so you can ask?” Luce teased, even if she didn’t think it would’ve been a silly question to ask. What _was_ the deal with night rainbows, anyway? 

“Well, nothing else looks the same under the moonlight, so why should rainbows? Simple logic, really.”

And Luce couldn’t argue. Not that she wanted to, necessarily, but she was not convinced it was really all as simple as that.

“You don’t believe me,” Rachel said, and this time she was the one with a hint of teasing in her voice, “do you?”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you. I’m just… not fully convinced.”

“Such trust in my scientific gut. Warms my heart, really.”

Luce chuckled and finished the last bit of her sandwich. “I’m fairly sure ‘my gut said so’ does not count as scientific proof.”

And that would’ve been the end of that conversation. Should have been, really, considering neither of them had any solid knowledge on rainbows in the moonlight one way or the other. But clearly, H had brought up a subject so fascinating they simply couldn’t let it go.

“They _can’t_ look the same,” Rachel mused out loud as she put the last wrapping back into the bag where they’d brought in their food. Their small corner of the room was all tidied up, and Luce was already setting up the three sleeping bags they’d sleep in as soon as H came back from her scientific adventure with the rest of the kids. 

“You’re not letting this go, are you?” Luce asked, half-distracted as she pondered where to place her own sleeping bag. The proper thing to do would be to leave H’s in the middle, but her _scientific gut_ was making a very convincing case for placing her own bag next to Rachel’s instead.

“Everything else looks different at night, so why shouldn’t rainbows?”

“I don’t know. Because they aren’t things, I guess. Not really. Where should I put my sleeping bag?”

“They aren’t things,” Rachel repeated, almost to herself. She didn’t seem at all invested in the sleeping bag conundrum.

Luce was still deep in thought, weighing in politeness against just how lovely Rachel’s hair smelled at night, when she felt Rachel’s hand on her own, squeezing lightly to get her attention.

And as soon as she had it, Rachel kissed her again. Soft, just like before, but maybe a little more daring, taking advantage of the dark room with only the stars above offering some light. Luce was not too proud to admit it was enough to make her feel a bit weak in the knees.

“Hmm,” Rachel hummed thoughtfully, licking her lips, “still Salvia. Even under the moonlight. Is this approach scientific enough for your sensitivities?”

Luce couldn’t help but laugh at the teasing question. “I mean, it _is_ slightly better than quoting your gut as a source.”

“I _will_ figure it out, you know,” Rachel said, and Luce had no doubt she was right. She’d arrive at the right conclusion or simply a wrong one she’d feel strongly enough was right, but either way, Rachel was going to find an answer. And Luce loved that about her.

“I’ve no doubt you will. And I’ll be happy to help with any further kissing, if you need it for your investigation.”

Rachel lightly smacked Luce’s arm, but the pink dusting her cheek betrayed her true feelings on the matter.

“Next to mine,” she said, pointing at the sleeping bag in Luce’s arms, “that’s where that belongs.”

*******

“I’ve got a question.”

H wasn’t talking to Luce. In fact, for all H knew Luce was fast asleep on Rachel’s other side. 

“What is it?” Rachel’s voice came out in a sleepy, hushed whisper. H had caught her seconds away from drifting off to sleep.

“Are you happy?”

“What do you mean? Right now?”

“No. I mean are you happy. Without Heck.”

The silence that followed H’s whispered question stretched out for what felt to Luce like hours on end until Rachel finally, mercifully, spoke.

“It’s not that I’m happy without Heck, H. I’m happy with Luce.”

Luce resisted the urge to use the arm draped around Rachel’s waist to pull her a little closer. Hold her a little tighter. Let her know she understood exactly what she meant.

“Did you not love him?”

“I did. I do still love him. I was never in love with him.”

Though the topic at hand was far too serious for her to laugh or even smile, Luce couldn’t help but be amused by the fact that she could very nearly hear H’s doubt in the silence that followed. Silences sounded different when H was preparing her next question.

“Why did you marry him, then? You’re supposed to marry someone you’re in love with.”

“I thought I was in love. It looked like love. And then I _really_ fell in love and suddenly it was like seeing everything clearly for the very first time.”

“Oh,” H said, and there was something in her tone that made Luce think maybe she’d suddenly, finally, understood, “like the shrimp.”

“Like the… did you just say shrimp?”

“Yes,” H’s voice sounded like she couldn’t believe her sister hadn’t immediately understood the reference, “Luce said there’s a shrimp that sees millions of colours we can’t even imagine. So the world must look very different for that shrimp.”

“Right.”

“So it’s like you suddenly have shrimp eyes. You see colours you couldn’t even imagine before.”

“Well, it’s not the most romantic imagery,” Rachel said, a hint of amusement in her voice, “but I guess I do feel like I have shrimp eyes when I’m with Luce.”

“You should go look at a rainbow and count the colours,” H stopped halfway through her sentence to yawn, and Luce figured her curiosity had been satisfied for now, “I bet there’s more than just the seven.”

Rachel didn’t answer. Not out loud, anyway. But she was thinking so loudly Luce could’ve sworn she could hear the wheels turning inside her head. 

After a few minutes, with H snoozing peacefully next to her, Rachel turned around to face Luce.

“Luce,” she whispered, “are you awake?”

“I am.”

“I’m going to kiss you again.”

Luce smiled with her eyes still closed. “More research?”

There was a hushed giggle right before Luce felt Rachel’s lips pressing against her own. This kiss was different from the ones they’d shared before. Everyone around them was asleep, or at least seemed to be, and though they were still very much aware of where the line was, they were happy to stray a little closer to it than they had when they were surrounded by parents and children with their eyes open instead.

When Luce finally pulled back, breathing a little shallow and lips tingling with Rachel’s kiss, her girlfriend shot her a very fake version of her most menacing warning look.

“Please don’t interfere with the research process,” she said, trying to look serious even if the look in her eyes betrayed her, “I wasn’t done gathering data.”

“So sorry. Won’t ever happen again.”

“Good,” Rachel said, and just like H, she managed to make a silence sound loud with questions still unasked.

“Still salvia?” Luce asked, moving her hand away from Rachel’s waist to take her hand instead.

“Yes. But I still think a rainbow would look different in the moonlight. Even to my shrimp eyes.”

Luce let out a quiet chuckle, giving Rachel’s hand a gentle squeeze. “If it helps at all, I do find it romantic. Crustaceans have their charm.”

“Were you listening?”

Luce nodded. “I felt it too, you know. When I first saw you at the church. I knew right away.”

There was another silence then. Loaded with something different from questions.

“I think I did, too. I just…”

“You didn’t want to know.”

“I couldn’t,” Rachel said, and Luce liked the way the past tense sounded on that particular phrase. She remembered very clearly when Rachel had said it in the present. Over and over, with tears in her eyes. But that was then, and now she can.

“I know,” Luce whispered, thumb rubbing reassuring circles on the back of her girlfriend’s hand, “I know you couldn’t.”

Rachel didn’t say anything else. It wasn’t a tense silence, or a loud one. It was just silence. Silence and her girlfriend’s warm body next to her own, even with the thick fabric of their sleeping bags between them. Luce was sure she wouldn’t last long without falling asleep.

Until, of course, Rachel spoke again.

“Luce?” when her girlfriend hummed, she continued, “what does the salvia mean?”

“The red salvia?”

“Yes. I want to see if it may just be an exception to my otherwise very sound rainbow theory. So what does it mean?”

Luce couldn’t help but smile.

“The red salvia means ’ _forever mine_ ’.”

“Well,” Rachel said, and it sounded almost like a sigh rather than a whisper, “a different light was not going to change that.”


End file.
